


Would you smooch a flame

by TheDisco



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDisco/pseuds/TheDisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" idk maybe like something funny with grillby mentioning to sans that he needs to pay off his tab and then sans like waits until the place is basically empty and he like kisses him and gets a little touchy and he's all "so how about it" and grillby is just "yea you still gotta pay me" "</p>
<p>requested by a friend :"^)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would you smooch a flame

There was a lot that Grillby could put up with. He was, without a doubt, amongst the most patient of monsters. He just quietly stood there, serving drinks and food and perpetually polishing glasses. Bar fights seldom happened for Grillby gave off this calming air. It was hard to be angry when you were at Grillby's. He would do anything for anyone regardless, he was simply a good guy. But even good guys had limits.

Sans reclined back on the barstool and waved his hand. "Grillby, put it on my tab."

Normally Grillby would have an awful time telling someone their tab was reaching its limits, especially in times where the Underground economy wasn't doing so well; but this was Sans. For him, Grillby had no problems ducking down under the bar and coming back up with a little book. He laid it flat and flipped it open. Curious, Sans leaned in to take a peek.

Silent, Grillby pointed a flaming finger to Sans' lazy handwriting sprawled along the top. Under it were dates and prices from all the times where Sans had bought something and said his staple line "put it under my tab". Beads of sweat began crawling down Sans' temple as he scanned over the list that stretched for three pages.

Attitude never dimmed, however, Sans put up his hands and shrugged.

"Hey, no sweat," He said. "I'll figure something out. I always do, huh, pal?"

Grillby closed the book and returned it back to under the bar. He picked up a tumbler and began polishing it, his glasses watching Sans sharply. The skeleton in question leaned his whole body on the counter, arms folded, and rested his cheekbone on his forearm.

"No need to be hot headed about it," Sans continued in a drawl, as if he were falling asleep. "I'll figure something out by the time you close."

Within seconds of saying this, Sans did in facf fall asleep on the bar. Grillby said nothing and continued polishing his glass.

* * *

 

It was common for Sans to snooze in the bar, so as Grillby turned the 'open' side of his sign to 'close', he let Sans sleep. And as he swept up the place, he was careful not to upset his stool. Sans snored lightly through the whole process, none the wiser. Then as Grillby moped up the bar beside him, getting only as close as he dared to wipe the drool up from Sans' mouth, he felt a sudden, frozen hand go up his back.

Grillby tensed from head to toe. On instinct, he looked over to the side, but Sans was still quietly sleeping.

Shaken, he went back to cleaning the bar top. Through soapy water and glistening finished wood, he was able to see himself flickering in the dim light. He admired himself a little, nothing beyond a satisfactory nod, mind you; and then he saw something glow behind his reflection and, in tune with it, felt something grab him by the seat of his pants. He jumped as an initial reaction, obviously, and this time shot his furrowed glare down to Sans. He had a tiny grin about him and a blue flame dancing in his eye. His detached hand, controlled by his magic, waved mid-air to Grillby.

Sans chuckled. "Heh. What's the matter, Grillbz, you look like you've see a ghost."

As he spoke, his hand moved down to grope Grillby's hip. It was only half heartedly brushed away as Grillby looked on at Sans in mild confusion. Grinning, Sans popped off his other hand and used it to squeeze and feel up Grillby's shoulder.

"Y'know... You're really not bad lookin'." Sans' smile got wider as he balled his fist into the front of Grillby's shirt and tugged him down. Bewildered, the flame offered no resilience. Their faces were kept mere inches apart; the only thing Grillby could truly focus on was Sans' glowing eye. "I guess you're really... Hot."

It wasn't even that good of a pun. He had heard it at least a hundred times before. However, the kiss that came to follow as Sans closed the distance between them proved to be far superior.

Although neither party technically had lips, it was an interesting experience regardless. Grillby braced his hands on Sans' shoulders once Sans sat upright again; the hands travelled to both Grillby's shoulders and his back, but never beyond that. Grillby's flames ate away at Sans' grinning teeth, providing adequate sensation for them both. Sans' initial thought was that getting this close to Grillby was like chewing cinnamon gum- spicy. At one point, Sans' magic tongue slid past his teeth and touched Grillby's flame. There was a brief sizzle before it died down.

The kiss, should one call it that, certainly did not last long; after a short and sweet second of a moving mouth and flickering flame, Sans pulled back, along with his hands. He folded them politely in his lap and smiled.

"So...? Not bad, huh?"

Grillby shrugged his shoulders and made a tipping scale motion with his hands. The way he held himself gave away that he wasn't as composed as he wanted to believe.

Sans took to twiddling his thumbs and leaning towards Grillby a bit. "I'd say that... Clears the debt away. And hey, if you need more, I got plenty more to offer." His smile got wider. "So? How's that tab lookin' now, Grillbz?"

Grillby stared at Sans for a long moment. No words, no movement, barely a flicker of flames. Just as Sans was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, Grillby straight-up went for the door, leaving Sans behind.

Hardly affected, Sans twisted around on the stool, chuckling, and went to leave himself. Honestly, whether or not he wiped away the debt was irrelevant on some level; at least he got to smooch the flaming bartender.


End file.
